Prince Friction
by PenultimatePenman
Summary: Prince Gumball is not happy with whatever is going on between Fiona and Marshal Lee. So he takes it upon himself to confront the Prince of the Nightosphere directly, and the conversation takes an unpredictable turn. Rated for dub-con, slash


Prince Gumball marched resolutely down his path, breath steaming slightly in the cooling air. His pulse rushed in his pink ears as he muttered his much-rehearsed script to himself.

"You have disrespected my friend, and I cannot sit by and let you hover above her like some…some…" Oh what was the phrase he had come up with earlier? It was the perfect combination of diplomatic and condescending. Something about leeching, maybe?

The Prince's internal debate was cut off when he noticed grey cliffs loaming above him. He had reached Marshall Lee's cave.

Gumball couldn't suppress the shiver that went down his spine. His advisor had warned that this was a less than cautious plan, but the pink youth felt like he owed it to Fionna to get the red-sucker off her back.

Besides, something about the grey boy with demon eyes unsettled the Prince, and the less their paths intersected, the better. Setting his mouth in a firm line, Gumball strode in.

The cave was much more lit than he thought it would be, but there was still an air of clinging dampness. Gumball felt his rose-colored skin grow clammy, but forced himself to ignore it. He was on a mission. A mission of royal importance, and he couldn't be put off by such trivial discomforts.

Abruptly his feet were on old, wooden planks. Startled, the Prince pulled himself out of his introspection. He was on a dilapidated porch…when had that happened? He needed to focus, lest Marshall get the jump on-

"Well look who's here, knockin' at my door."

Gumball turned to see his possible nemesis floating a few feet away from him. Fleetingly, re realized he had never been so close to the lanky, grey male. A quick survey revealed black depthless eyes set on high cheek bones. His skin looked too smooth, too porcelain to be real –especially along his strong roman nose and angular chin. He was like a malicious statue brought to life, perfectly sculpted but still lethal. It was undoubtedly the face of a predator, and Gumball was _not_ going to forget that.

"Technically, I never knocked," the Prince retorted. "You interrupted. As per usual."

Marshall smirked and floated off the porch, then around to the door. Gumball rotated as well, making sure to never leave his back open.

"My bad," the vampire murmured coolly before opening the door. Gumball took a step forward, but Marshall glided into the entrance and promptly shut the door in the Prince's face.

"_Really?_"

There was no answer.

Letting out a lengthy sigh, the pink royal knocked. Unsurprisingly, the rotting wood swung open to Marshall Lee's floating form.

"Well look who's here, knockin' at my door."

"Very funny," Gumball spat dismissively, striding into the ramshackle cabin. "Are you done being cute?"

The grey boy let out a quiet chuckle and floated over the Prince, forcing him to crane his neck upward. "So you think I'm cute?"

"What? No. Stop distracting me."

There was that damnable smirk again. "So now I'm distractingly cute? You have a way with the compliments, bubblegum boy."

"I am a _Prince_," Gumball snapped, planting his legs firmly and reminding himself that _he_ was supposed to be the one in control here.

"So am I. What's your point?"

"Fionna."

"Apple," Marshall shot back. Gumball sent him a glare, but the nightmare Prince just shrugged and glided back into an upright position. "What, were we not naming things that look tasty?"

Something about his tone just rubbed Gumball the wrong way, and he felt his normally contained temper spike up. "_That's_ what I wanted to talk about. Fionna is my friend and I cannot just sit by while you disrespect her, with your hovering, and, and songs –oh, and that party-" Dammit, this had gone much more smoothly in his head.

"Slow your roll there, Bubbles." The taller boy interrupted, drifting out of Gumball's view. The pink Prince spun about, concerned that he could no longer see or hear his grey host. How could someone be so silent?

"Fionna's a big girl," Gumball started, and stepped back, surprised that Marshall was suddenly beside him. But the Vampire kept on, looking mildly amused. "She can take care of herself against a big bad like me." Those black eyes flashed red for a moment. "…probably."

"I-I know she can take care of herself," Gumball snapped, trying to order his thoughts. "But I'm asking you, as one Prince to another, to please leave her alone. I don't want her getting hurt while you toy with her."

"No."

"No?" Gumball parroted incredulously. "What do you mean, just no?"

But Marshall Lee was off floating again, laying on his back while he lounged through the air, looking like the spoiled, selfish brat that he was.

"I mean no. Look, Bubbles, I've got needs. Demon needs. And Fionna's got all that red inside of her." His superior smirk grew toothy, and Gumball realized just how sharp a vampire's bite could be. "Just kinda makes a guy _hungry_, ya know?

He had no answer for the grey boy. How did one convince a self-absorbed monster _not_ to be a monster?

Apparently the silence was too boring for the impetuous Prince of the Nightosphere. "Well, this was fun." Marshal sighed, rolling his eyes as he opened the door. "But I've got a human to go drink from, if you wouldn't mi-"

"You can feed from me."

Marshall froze, hand still on the rusting knob of his shack. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he turned to face the candy Prince. For the first time, his expression wasn't a smirk, or some haughty grin.

"Come again, Bubbles?"

Gumball swallowed and forced himself to sound nonchalant. "It sounds like the root of the matter is you want food. If you're really such a slave to your hunger, I'm sure I could provide adequate sustenance for you."

The door slammed shut and suddenly Marshall was a breath away, looking down his nose at the candy royal.

"And what makes you think I'd want you, sugar Prince? You think pink is as good as scarlet, crimson, pulsing _red_?"

Gumball shrugged. "Probably not. But let's face it; even you said Fionna is probably going to take care of herself. And that means seeing through you, and you'll end up just as hungry and alone as before. So you can gamble and _maybe _end up getting a sip of her red, or you can have an open buffet on someone who regenerated _much_ faster."

The vampire's hardened expression melted and he just kinda drifted there, pondering Gumball's words.

"All of this for a girl you're not even interested in, huh?"

The Prince's cheeks burned. "That's none of your business."

"Uh-huh." And the smirk was back. "So I can feed on you whenever I want?"

"Hardly. Only times within reason."

"Who's reason?"

"Mine."

"Tough bargain, Bubbles. So how long does this deal last?"

"Until I'm sure Fionna is safe." The Prince puffed out his chest again, trying to look authoritative. "And we won't do it here."

"Oh?"

"At my room, in the castle, where no one can see. You come to the window, and I'll let you in."

Finally the vampire's feet touched the ground as he extended a cold, dead hand. "Sounds like a deal, Bubbles."

Anxiety pricked at Gumball's stomach, and for a moment he wondered if he was making a grave error. But backing out now would prove that he was intimidated by his vampire counterpart. Which he wasn't.

At all.

Really.

"Deal." Gumball answered, clasping Marshall's hands. There was a rumble from below their feet and pentagram flashed into existence before the world settled, eerily silent.

"We start tomorrow night. After sundown."

Marshall's black eyebrow rose. "Yes, your highness."

Gumball turned on his heel before he could lose his nerve and saw himself to the door.

He hoped he was doing the right thing, but a knot in the pit of his stomach was telling him he made a terrible choice.

…too late now.


End file.
